//Intervention// Part 3

                                    

                                          
As the wolfs-bane zapped my strength and robbed my senses, Tidus worked with relentless effort to sire me to his castle.
                          
Portraits and landscapes became surreal-life, their fork-tongued inhabitants calling me to stop and join in their depravities. A doe-eyed siren vocalized from a pirate ship's shadow, her lovely voice and lovelier silhouette tempting me to the water.... as beneath the waves her lovers drowned. I retreated, hurrying back the way I came--from one temptation to another. This time, Eve seduced Adam with a beautiful red apple, a glossy, black serpent twined around her throat. It flicked its tongue at me; so did Eve. I locked eyes with Adam, stunned by his resemblance to the dark prince. I stumbled past Ti's doppelgänger, the devil's sigh in hot pursuit. I wavered between laughing and crying-and suddenly felt empty at the thought of escape. With each breath I tasted the poison in my lungs, but around every corner was him.
                          
Tidus was in too many places at once. He haunted doorways and teased me from the ceiling. I shimmered after him, sometimes away, seeking one ghost to be hounded by another. His silence mocked me; I cursed him and his shadow retaliated, coyly slipping off with mine-and never returning. I took cover in a library-but Tidus was already there, inspecting the novels for dust. I seized a book from the nearest shelf, prepared to hurl it in his direction--and froze at the signature. He was the author of every single book-thousands-and they all shared the exact same title.
                          
T-I-D-U-S.  
                          
I ripped out the pages before I left, and filled the fireplace with as many books as I could.
                          
As punishment for my failed rebellion, legendary images of our sordid lovemaking replayed in every mirror-like surface. Tidus winked as I tripped over him on the stairs, and tugged on my ankle-chain for good measure. Perhaps most infuriating of all was when he sought refuge in his favorite paintings-exchanging glances with Judas at the last supper, smirking from the window in American Gothic, puffing on his cigar as he dealt cards to outrageous caricatures of himself. Tidus was inescapable.
                          
I ignored Tidus-he whispered in my ear. I chased him-he vanished in thin air. Was he real, or merely vivid hallucinations from the festering poison? It didn't matter. We played an endless game of run-and-find--around and around the castle we went. 
                          
I walked backwards, down a corridor I'd trekked a thousand times, pushing at my hair in dismay. Hold on, wait a minute--I gripped my arms in a panic. The icy fingers at the back of my neck-was that him, or the fever's chill? Sweat dripped in my burning eyes, blurring my vision as I forged ahead. Find the exit. Find Lucas. He has the cure... Two suits of armor turned their heads to watch my progress as I debated. Like an evil kaleidoscope, the world spiraled beneath my feet, sideways, then upside down, then right side up again.
                          
Dazed and confused, I teetered backwards-falling into something too solid and reactive for me not to respond with violence. I whipped around, pressing the stake to Tidus' throat, my other hand clenching his arm in a brutal grip. He protested but I drove him backwards, pinning him against the stone wall.
                          
"Listen up, I'm getting out of here and you can't stop me. Now, darling, how would you prefer to die this time--"
                          
"Naomi?!"
                          
I blinked in confusion-my vision cleared... "Collin."
                          
"Um, yeah." He slowly edged his way around me, green eyes wide with surprise. "You're trashed. How much did you drink?"
                          
"Not enough. What are you doing here?"
                          
"Trying to find the freaking exit--I've been lost for hours. Could you, like, not point that at me?" Collin shook his head, glancing at the hall in grim distaste. "This place is weird, man. I know it sounds crazy, but I swear the hallways and the staircases move. And the paintings--they have real eyes--that follow you--and there are bats everywhere--it's like the Dead Files in here." He scratched his head, still watching the ceiling. "I dunno... Either I'm going insane, or all those rumors about the moor are true."